


on the subtle differences between defiance, obedience, and acceptance

by Pas_dAutres



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Gen, slight lunyx
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 10:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7973557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pas_dAutres/pseuds/Pas_dAutres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>from a young age, lunafreya held onto the one belief that defined her existence: destiny and duty—and she will do whatever it takes to preserve and make true this belief. when insomnia is in reach, twelve years later, she is soon taught that acceptance of her fate doesn’t mean keeping silent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	on the subtle differences between defiance, obedience, and acceptance

The moment they are stopped outside the outer gates, she knows she will be in good hands. Back straight, hands crossed in her lap, and eyes forward, Lunafreya sits with a cool yet attentive composure expected from a former princess and now a chess piece in a manipulating game. Behind her relaxed gaze holds caution, for while in Lucian lands, she is still in Niflheim’s tight grip.

Her escort is still arguing with the guard, gloating his apparent superior status. She finds it amusing, for he has obviously not come to terms that a king’s order is above all others’. Luna peers ahead with a growing tingle in her chest—always has King Regis’ protection been extended to her.

The party’s attention turns towards two nearing figures, one imposing with a command of respect and the other following one step behind. The latter is…scruffy. It’s all Luna can describe. He carries a casual sway, almost as if mocking her escort, then quickly changes his demeanor when he excuses her driver and gently addresses her. Lunafreya is no fool—the cool metal sigil stitched on his uniform, carved into a form of a daemon-god with his sword and wings standing vigil over fourteen glaives. King Regis is making too much of an effort to escort little old her.

_“Your highness.”_

Luna unabashedly looks to the rear mirror. Her new Lucian escort seems to be the utmost concentrated—eyes dead straight ahead, destination in sight with no sign of distraction flickering in his gaze. ‘My life is in your hands,’ she thinks. Sliding back against the seat, Luna doesn’t realize that her shoulders have relaxed until she catches the slight curve of her lips in the window reflection. They’ve now passed the inner gates, Insomnia as majestic and beautiful as ever, and Luna looks on with nostalgic warmth.

It has been a long time.

.-.

Her life, it is safe to say, has always been in other people’s hands. Whether if it’s in her loving mother’s, her misguided brother’s, the kind Lucian king’s, or in the wrath of the night gods—there is an eerie acceptance Lunafreya has developed from long ago that her life and future are not entirely hers. Even so, when she looks to old King Regis in all his age and glory, regal in his stance and strong in his virtue, she cannot feel but wanting to break free of her premeditated duties and take his hand in hers again. Tell him no: he’s never failed her anything. He has never locked a door on her.

She sees comfort in the king. She sees warmth and love, family and home in the aging but oh-so wise ruler. She feels elation to see him so well and that joy rises when she knows that the feeling is returned. She can’t help but feel that soft smile hidden behind his age-wise moustache is meant for her. She senses her own smile reaching to her cheeks, to her eyes.

She also feels the impending pull of darkness, a light squeeze in her heart as a reminder of the king’s weakening state and her inability to do anything about it. Luna has found herself a second father, a hand in which she trusts her life with wholeheartedly, and she allows that hand to let go be _cause of her duties_.

_“It is what your king would have wanted.”_

Nyx is right. Even she herself is sometimes tired of the entire brave-princess act. She tires of the neutral mask, an illusion of inner strength. She tires of her almost-scripted words that she repeats to herself at night and the irony of it all when she said those words to Nyx. Who is she truly trying to convince out of the two?

“Now are you afraid?”

Lunafreya glances up at Nyx. The fervor of escape and battle from earlier has dissipated, silence in the room allowing only a sliver of comfort knowing that Niflheimian machinery are not nearby.

“Afraid of what?”

“Death.”

She feels that he’s mocking her, bringing up her false bravado in the helicopter. But her words weren’t false at all.

“No,” she answers. That seems to be her favourite word of the day. “I’m not. What good is it to fear something that is inevitable?”

Nyx scoffs, muttering under his breath something along the lines of princesses and royalty. He misunderstands—this doesn’t come from the lines of royalty but something far greater, something far beyond a human’s reach. Something to do with destinies and gods and foreseeable fates.

When you are told from infancy the same words over and over again, they become ingrained to you, they meld in your mind, they fall into your existence. They become you. Duty, honour, responsibility, destiny. Oracle. Protector of Princes. It is what you truly believe and swear to live by.

But for others, Lunafreya reflects, their own fates should not be determined by the likes of her.

“What was her name?”

Nyx’s inspecting eyes flick to hers from the window in question.

“Your friend, the one who…I was supposed to meet.”

He lowers his gaze and soften his jaws. Luna genuinely doesn’t mean to inflict pain, but there’s a compelling curiousity within her.

“Crowe. Crowe Altius.” His voice is low and soft. “She was an orphan, but man did she have heart and strength. You know the thing you do with your words? Well she packs even bigger punches sometimes—easily leaves bruises on us.”

Luna smiles genuinely, enjoying the way Nyx speaks of his friend. She must’ve been as close as family. “The king’s glaive only recruits the best. Her magic must have been quite strong.”

“One of our best. Holds down to the end, as tenacious as her namesake. She was the only one Libertus didn’t prank on for fear of retaliation.”

Luna doesn’t hold in her chuckle. “It would have been a privilege to meet her. I should think I would be charmed.”

Nyx’s chortle is abrupt and rowdy in comparison. “Probably the other way ‘round, princess. She was never one for fancy trinkets and sky-light colours, but I’m sure she would’ve been in awe. And she did always have a tendency turn mother-bear around the ladies.”

“She sounds like a lovely person. I would’ve…I would have met her,” murmurs Luna, eyes downcast. The diamond hairclip weighs strangely heavy on her head. “I would have received the hairclip from her with honour and run with her and annoy her with my death wishes and—”

“—and she would’ve pr _ooo_ bably yell at you a few times, more so than me, and m _ay_ be apologize after for her ‘insolence’.” Nyx signals air-quotes with his fingers. “And she would’ve put everything in her to make sure you’re safe and escorted to Insomnia.”

Luna purses her lips together. A small wave of regret washes over for a chance meeting that was destined to never happen.

“And she did,” Nyx continues. “She died a kingsglaive, your majesty. She chose and went a glaive. She would’ve never regretted a thing, so don’t even pull yourself in that guilt-thing you royals often do.”

She raises her head and catches Nyx’s determined glare. “Focus on what’s ahead. You’re the one who told me that, right?”

Luna sees steel gray, hardened by loss yet still luminous from hope. She sees resolve and purpose, eyes a little bit wiser from the day’s happenings. She finds learning and understanding, a new dawning from which was gained from a recent loss that affected them both. She sees a familiar home, a familial safety, a soldier’s duty. She sees her king.

A distant buzz wakes them both into alertness. The machines have finally caught up. Nyx hardens into a fighting stance, taking position before her to lead the way.

“Come on. We’ll get to that building and see if we can sneak by without them noticing.”

Luna glances down at Nyx’s hand, dirty and scratched and bloody from battle. King Regis has chosen well.

.-.

Libertus tells her not to worry about Nyx, that he can take care of himself.

They both know how much of a lie that is. Luna discovers that she is not the only one who tends to pull a brave face in front of others. But while the watery tone in her subsequent escort’s voice tears something inside her, a strange calm resides in Luna. She looks on to the wreckage of a battlefield—Insomnia’s grandiosity no more. King Regis no more. The kingsglaive no more.

But the future is still there, saved and waiting to be pulled into existence. For one brave soldier understood and believed and fought for his king.

‘Nyx Ulric,’ she thinks to herself, ‘miracles are made by man and magic.’

She ignores Libertus’ soft plea to hurry along. She makes a choice and murmurs her new favourite word.

“No.”

Luna is alone and free from hands. All her life, she’s been guided by hands. And while she still believes in her foretold future and one responsibility, she finally understands what King Regis had meant back in the corridor. The blonde takes a long look at Libertus, who’s confused at her defiance. Luna knows he’s secretly anxious to go back, to go see his brother Nyx; yet like all, he is bound by duty.

_No more._

She is to take her life in her own hands. It is what her king would have wanted.

_“Locked doors will seal your fate no longer.”_

**Author's Note:**

> because crowe deserved way better than the atrocious execution of her character (no pun intended) in the movie. after watching kingsglaive for like…the fourth time (lulsaveme), its not hard to admit that luna and crowe’s character were terribly written. terribly. and while i can complain about the writing and compare her to stella, i decided to look for excuses instead. yeah, luna was way to demure and useless (there i said it) in the movie and she’s…pretty much sort of unnecessary in kingsglaive even though the creators said she plays an important role??(maybe im missing something here???). but im also tired of reading articles on how luna’s so dull.
> 
> if you look at it from a different perspective; think on maybe luna’s been told that she’s destined to be this great oracle/heroine thing in the future and thus must do everything to make her future happen? im not calling on some sort of verbal abuse here but what im saying is repetitive words can do a lot to a child (take me for examplelul). she is quiet because acceptance of something unpleasant to you can do a lot, it can shut you down. maybe after the events in kingsglaive, she finally learns to take in her fate and act upon it her own way. know what im saying? no? me neither. im just ranting. i like luna ok? i still have high hopes for her character in the game.
> 
> and THEN. we have crowe (-.-). ugh. fucking ugh. i can conjure up so many headcanons on crowe and luna. they should’ve met. they. should have. met. im legit upset about crowe and probably will never get over it because it was injustice. anyways. toodles.


End file.
